


Live With This

by jamwrites



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Normal Life, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst with a Happy Ending, Coming Out, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gay, M/M, Swearing, Teen Angst, klance, where's coran? i guess he's like at the pier somewhere?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-03
Updated: 2016-10-07
Packaged: 2018-08-12 15:00:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7938994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jamwrites/pseuds/jamwrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everything about this night was pissing Keith off. </p><p>Maybe it was the over-bright pier lights that reflected off the ferris wheel every time this one crooked car made a rotation, flashing right in Keith’s eyes. Maybe it was the ocean, which normally was comforting but tonight was like a toddler pounding against his head. Maybe it was the relentless smell of cotton candy and popcorn and seagull poop.</p><p>Or maybe it was just Lance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so deep in Klance Hell I can't believe it. Basically just an angsty, fluffy Normal Life AU on some California pier.

Everything about this night was pissing Keith off.

Maybe it was the over-bright pier lights that reflected off the ferris wheel every time this one crooked car made a rotation, flashing _right_ in Keith’s eyes. Maybe it was the ocean, which normally was comforting but tonight was like a toddler pounding against his head. Maybe it was the relentless smell of cotton candy and popcorn and seagull poop.

Or maybe it was just Lance.

“Keith, Keith, check this out!” Lance held up his hands, which were covered in string. “It’s the cat’s cradle! I did it. Pretty snazzy, eh? Huh? Took me a while, but I got there. People go crazy for a guy who can do this stuff.”

Definitely Lance.

Keith rolled his eyes in way of response and went back to adding butter slime to the popcorn machine. He would give anything to get out of there, “there” being the tiny box office that he had been trapped in for an eternity or two. When he applied for the summer job, Keith was almost excited; decent pay for just sitting on the pier and selling tickets to the tiny theater. Nothing difficult. His boss even let him listen to his iPod when business was slow. And at the end of the night, he was one of the last ones on the pier. The walk back to shore was his favorite part of the day; nobody but him and the stars and the ocean.

Of course, his boss had neglected to tell Keith that he would have a co-worker. Sharing the minuscule box office with anybody for eight hours would have been agonizing.

Doing it with Lance Charles McClain was torture. For a number of reasons.

Lance leaned against the popcorn machine, his shoulder touching Keith’s.

“How long do we have left? Like, an hour? It’s got to be an hour at most, right?”

Lance’s shoulder was still touching his.

“Two,” Keith said, looking anywhere but Lance. He kept his voice flat. Disinterested.

When he heard Lance would be sharing his hours, Keith had thought about quitting. To Lance’s credit, it wasn’t solely because the guy was unbearable. He wasn’t even that bad, once you got to know him.

And that was exactly the problem. Junior year at Altea High, Keith _had_ gotten to know Lance. Really well. They had been assigned neighboring lockers and had exchanged casual “hello’s” between classes. And then Lance had asked for help with his AP Bio, and Keith had needed Calc tutoring, so they spent time at each others’ houses. Then they were hanging out just to hang out. In past years at school they always competed in everything, but this wasn’t like that this time. This time, they pushed each other to be better.

Things had kept going from there. Keith had felt...he didn’t know what he felt. Or what he expected. And he didn’t know what Lance was thinking, either, and they never talked, of course they didn’t, because Keith was horrible at talking.

But some of the looks Lance gave him or little comments he made or smiles that lingered a bit too long, that couldn’t be just...friend stuff, could it? Keith had no idea. He had never been one for having a lot of friends outside of the group.

And then _she_ had happened. Keith hadn’t meant to get angry at Lance, but he couldn’t stand watching him fawn over _perfect_ Allura, _sensitive_ Allura. Allura was _such_ a _good friend_ to Lance. She could talk for _hours_. Every time Lance had brought her up in front of the group--which was always--it had felt like a knife to his chest. He always lost his temper so fast with Lance when he went on about Allura, and that was before she had started working her way into their lunch table at school.

As spring came, Keith and Lance had drifted apart. By the time school got out, they were barely talking.

It had driven the group apart a little, too. It was hard to hang out with everyone else when Keith was being so icy with Lance all the time. But he couldn’t help it. And he couldn’t talk to anybody about it, either. Because nobody knew…

Knew what? That he was gay? _Was_ he? It was confusing, Keith was confused, he didn’t have anybody to explain how this worked to him. No parents, no counsellors, and he certainly wasn’t going to ask _Shiro_ , of all people, even if he was his legal guardian. There was no way he was going to ask Hunk or Pidge--the two most emotionally oblivious people he knew--for advice, either.

Now, this summer, Lance was just acting like nothing had happened at all. Had it? Was everything just in Keith’s head?

“Hello? Earth to Mullet-Head.” Lance was waving a hand in front of Keith’s eyes. _What now?_ Something was also touching his knee. Lance. Lance’s knee was knocking against Keith’s.

“What?” Keith knocked Lance’s hand away, trying hard to keep the blood from rushing to his face.

“You were zoning out there, dude. Staring at the popcorn.”

Had he? Maybe. But what did Lance care anyway? Keith leaned his forehead against the greasy glass. He just wanted this night to end.

“Hello boys!”

_God. Damn. It._

It was like there was an invisible dog collar on Lance’s neck, and someone had just yanked his leash. He turned so fast it gave Keith whiplash just looking at him.

“Allura! Hey!” Lance put his elbows on the front counter, a cheesy grin spreading across his face. “How’s it going?”

Allura grinned in response. The worst part about it was that Keith couldn’t even blame Lance for liking her. Allura was kind and caring and beyond gorgeous; she looked like she had just stepped out of a modeling catalogue, having grown bored because she had one-upped every other model in it. Even so, though he could see how others would be attracted to her, Keith wasn't. Allura was beautiful to him in the way a landscape was, or a flower. And currently she had her fingers to the glass pane, doing some sort of secret handshake thing with Lance. Ugh.

“How is business tonight, Keith?” Allura turned her dazzling smile on him. She was always so nice to him, which made it really hard to be irritated with her, which just irritated Keith more.

He waved his hand noncommittally at the non-existent line to the theater. “Oh, you know. Booming.”

She laughed like he had just told some great joke, voice sparkling champagne, and then she and Lance were talking as if an earlier conversation had never ended. Keith felt the old anger bubbling up in his chest. Why couldn’t he and Lance talk like that anymore? Why couldn’t Keith let him? Why couldn’t Lance--

Allura was talking to the both of them again. “How’re...other things?” She asked, and waggled her eyebrows at Lance.

Really? Right in front of him?

He had to get out of there. All of a sudden, the minuscule box office felt crushing, claustrophobic.

“Excuse me,” he said, elbowing past Lance. He was out the back door before Lance even had time to respond, letting it slam shut behind him, letting the two of them have some privacy, if that’s what they wanted. Keith walked as fast as he could with his hands in his pockets, not knowing where he was going. Anywhere but back there. He felt like yelling. Or crying. He felt--he didn’t know what he felt. Why couldn’t he go back to feeling nothing?

The pier swallowed him whole. Blinking carnival lights, the _whoosh_ of some cheap roller coaster, the crying of the seagulls overhead; Keith let all of it in, trying to drown out his thoughts. People were laughing. Guys were walking with their arms around girls, or playing carnival games to win prizes for them, or kissing them. Going on dates. A normal date, where the boundaries were drawn. Where the battle was not confusing: _I am your boyfriend. We’re dating. We have feelings for each other. We’re normal._

He wouldn’t ever have that. Keith knew that now. He’d just accept it like everything else, tamp down his self-pity and hurt and keep it in a place he wouldn’t ever see it, and then move on. He and Lance would never be _him and Lance_. That was fine. He could live with that.

Keith breathed out a long, slow breath. His feet had brought him to the end of the pier. Here, there was only a few stuttering lampposts and a railing to keep people from falling into the ocean; the shops and funhouses and games had all melted away. There were a few people lounging on the railings too, engrossed in their phones or their dates, but mostly he was alone. He could live with that. He could.

The ocean breeze felt good after the stuffiness of the box office. Keith felt his anger fading away, so he took another breath and counted to ten, just like Shiro had taught him. _One, two, three, four..._ He played with the idea of calling Shiro. But what good would that do? What would he even say? “ _Hey Shiro, so get this: I think I might be gay and guess what? I have a total crush on Lance even though he drives me fucking insane.”_

Yeah, right.

Shiro would be okay with it. Keith knew that. So would everyone else, for that matter. He wasn’t afraid of them thinking he was...gross, or disgusting, or wrong or-or anything like that.

_Then what are you afraid of?_

If he told everyone, Lance would find out. And then he try to dissect whatever they had been, and it would make everything weirder. Everyone would make it a big deal. Allura especially would steamroll over Keith in her excitement and probably want to paint his nails or something.

But Keith didn’t want that. Just because he might like guys didn’t...change him. Did it? He didn’t want--what? For things to be different? He didn’t want...He didn’t--

“Ugh!” Keith kicked the stupid railing and watched it stupidly vibrate and let the stupid people stare at him. He let his stupid toe sent signals to his brain telling him it hurt, but he ignored them. He--

\--he didn’t want them to treat him differently. Because even if everyone was ok with it, they still would see him as being a different person. Allura would try to bond with him over it. Hunk would take him shopping and ask him if he thought he looked hot enough in this tuxedo to buy it for prom with Shay. Pidge would want to understand it and hook up electrodes to Keith’s head and then compare his brainwaves with Shiro’s for a fun science experiment.

And Lance would never talk to him again.

Keith could tell everyone that he was gay. But he couldn’t make them understand that he was still Keith; he had been gay _before_ coming out to them. He had never wanted his nails painted then (not that he had anything against being feminine. It just wasn’t him. He thought.), so they didn’t need to treat him any different _now_.

He took another breath. _One. Two. Three_ …

It was all hypothetical. He was getting too worked up over something that would never happen. Because he wasn’t ever going to tell them. And he could live with that.

“For someone who hates math, you do a lot of thinking.” Keith practically jumped out of his shoes at the unexpected voice. At the familiar voice. Quickly, like some kid trying to hide his stolen candy, Keith stuffed down all of his thoughts, trying to compose himself.

He kicked the railing again, but not as hard. Looked at the water below. “What do you want, Lance?”

“Well, after you disappeared back there, I wanted to make sure you weren’t about to throw yourself into the ocean or something else equally dramatic.” Lance’s voice was strange. Quiet. Calm. Keith refused to look at the jerk.

“And why would I do that?”

“You tell me.”

For some reason, _that_ pissed him off. Because this was what Lance had sounded like when they were hanging out in Keith’s bedroom, just talking. And Lance didn’t get to talk like this to him anymore.

Keith rounded on Lance, jaw clenched, fists balled. “Don’t you have somewhere to be? Hanging out with _Allura_?”

He saw the hurt flash across Lance’s face, but he didn’t care. He didn’t. Let him be hurt. Let his stupid, handsome face with his cheekbones and sharp jawline be hurt.

Lance backed away a half step, but then reached as if to touch Keith’s arm and then said, way too softly, “I just wanted to make sure you were okay, dude.”

For the second time that night, Keith pushed Lance’s hand away. “Yeah, well, I’m fine. What do you even care?”

“I’m your friend, man.” Lance’s Adam’s Apple bobbed in his throat. “I thought--”

“You,” Keith said, “thought wrong. Leave me alone. Allura’s waiting for you. She probably wants a goodnight kiss.”

Hurt ran across Lance’s face again, but then it was followed by something else. His eyebrows knit together.

“Kiss…?” Lance cocked his head. “What do you...oh. _Oh_ .” And then he was silent. Staring at Keith for several long, long seconds, as if his computer systems had all frozen up. Lance blinked, and then he said it again. “ _Oh_.”

Keith was paralyzed by Lance’s eyes. Why did he get to do this to him? Why did Lance get to control Keith like this without even knowing it? It wasn’t fair. Especially when Keith prided himself on burning feelings away.

“Oh. _Oh my God_.”

“Stop saying that.”

“But you…” Lance frowned. “You thought...you think...you… _oh my God_.”   

If he was trying to piss Keith off, it was working. He wanted to be alone. If Lance was worried about someone getting thrown into the ocean, he should have been worrying about himself. He wanted...he wanted--

He wanted to curl up with Lance’s body pressing against his.

There had been one day. When Keith had gotten sick of doing Calc homework, so Lance had suggested video games instead. Keith’s room in Shiro’s apartment was so tiny that they both had to sit on his bed.

_Stop._

“Go away!” Keith shouted, and he felt tears forming in his eyes. Pricking and burning. He hadn’t cried since he was six years old, what the hell? It was Lance. Playing his feelings without even knowing it. He didn’t get to do this. Not anymore. Keith was done.

_They were on his bed, lying on their stomachs, legs bumping clumsily into one another._

_Stop it._

He took all those memories of him and Lance hanging out, laughing, touching in little, maybe-non-accidental ways. All the times Keith had caught Lance staring at him. He balled all those memories up and threw them off the pier. But they just kept coming back.

“What?”

“Get away from me, dude. I want to be alone. Go home with Allura. Go!” Keith was crying in earnest now, big fat tears rolling out of his eyes.

He couldn’t let Lance see. Fuck Lance.

_It was getting late, and Keith had gotten up early that morning for varsity fencing practice. Now he was paying for it. His eyes refused to stay open for longer than a few seconds. And his bed was so warm, Lance was so warm. They were touching all the way from their feet to their shoulders. Squeezed on his frameless twin mattress together._

Keith wiped his eyes on his shirtsleeve. The tears kept coming. Lance was still standing there, dumbfounded. The memories wouldn’t stop. They were getting mixed up in the blurry, pastel hanging lights of the pier.

_“I should get going, man,” Lance said, laughing a little as Keith nodded off again and jerked back awake. “You’re about to pass out.”_

_Keith didn’t want that warmth to leave. He liked the way their bodies touched in a long line, like a zipper. He liked the fuzzy happiness that glowed in his chest._

_He shook his head. “No.”_

_“No?”_

_“You can stay the night.”_

_“Shiro-”_

_“Shiro’s not my dad. It’s fine.”_

Keith turned away from Lance and put his elbows on the rusty railing and then his head in his arms. Like he was a little kid getting a timeout in elementary school.

“I’m not going anywhere, Keith.” Lance put his hand on Keith’s shoulder. “Just...listen to me for a sec, okay?”

_They were both so tired, and Keith’s room was such a mess that there was no floor space visible. So they had fallen asleep on Keith’s bed. And as they drifted, Keith was vaguely aware that Lance had turned sideways towards him, and that Keith had turned too so that his shoulderblades were pressed into Lance’s chest. And in that semi-sleep state, he had no inhibitions. He didn’t care._

_Lance’s chest was touching his back. Lance’s hips were cupping his butt. His legs, longer than Keith’s, fit imperfectly in his own bent knees. Sometime during the night, one of Lance’s legs slipped between Keith’s to make more room._

_Sometime during the night, one of Lance’s arms slipped over Keith’s chest._

_Sometime during the night, Keith had grabbed Lance’s hand and tugged it closer._

Fuck. Fuck. _Fuck._ Keith was kicking the railing again. He didn’t want to listen to Lance and he didn’t want to fucking remember that night and he especia-fucking-lly didn’t want to remember how that was the happiest he had been in years. He didn’t want to give Lance that.

“Keith! Stop!” And then Lance’s hand on his shoulders was two hands, gripping his collar and gently pulling him up and away and spinning him around to face him.

And there he was. Lance. His face long, chin pointed, handsome. So handsome. His eyes shining in the lights. Hair messed up and smelling like butter popcorn.

“Stop,” Lance said again. He moved his hands to grip Keith’s wrists, bringing them up between the two of them. “I know what’s wrong. I think.”

_No you don’t. It’s you. It’s Allura. You. You. You._

Keith sniffed, grossly, snottily. Tears were running down his cheeks but his hands were still imprisoned by Lance’s grasp. How had he gotten like this? How had one night reduced him to such a mess?

“You think I like Allura,” Lance whispered.

Keith had thought he was too worn out for rage, but it came biting back.

“Because you do.” Fine. Keith was so done. If Lance wanted to get into this right now, after all those months, fine. Keith would get into it. And then he would walk away. Because he could live with it.

“Keith--”

“No. Don’t even start.” Keith pulled his hands away from Lance. They were trembling. “You could have just told me, man. When you started crushing on her. I thought--I thought I was your best friend. I thought--” The words died on his lips.

 _Just get it out._ He had to. Be done with all of this garbage. He could live with it.

Everything slowed. Keith could feel the ocean lapping at the pier through the floorboards. He could smell Lance’s deodorant. The pressure of his fingers was still fading from his wrists. Keith felt every raw nerve in his body,

ready

to

explode.

“I thought you had a crush on me.”

Time didn’t stop. But it might as well have. Because Lance froze. And Keith froze. And shit, shit, double shit, what had he just done? Had he really...had he just _said it_?

Keith stared at the uneven boards beneath his feet. He couldn’t meet Lance’s eyes.

“I’m right,” Lance said, so, so quiet. “You think I like Allura.”

_Think?_

“Well, you _do_ , don’t you?”

If it was possible, this silence was worse than the first one. Keith’s heart twisted painfully.

Staring at his shoes, Keith watched Lance kick his toe, ever so softly. “Keith...I spent so much time with Allura because, well, uh. Because I wanted her help. On, you know. Her advice. Because she’s Allura, and she’s good at this stuff.”

What? What on Earth was he going on about? Something sparked in Keith’s gut. He didn’t like that feeling. This feeling he was feeling now only led to disappointment.

Lance’s shoe bumped Keith’s again. Awkwardly. Like a scared animal checking to make sure it was safe to approach. Keith didn’t trust himself to talk, or move. Or do anything other than stand frozen.

There was a sucking sound as Lance breathed in .

“This spring, I asked Allura for advice on you. Because...because I liked you, too.”

Holy shit.

  
Holy.

Mother.

  
Of.

_Shit._

Gold flooded through Keith’s chest. Happiness that must have lit up the whole pier around him. Lance...liked him? And he went to Allura--Allura had only been--but, could...really?

Lance was still going, tripping over his own words. “I do still. I mean, I like you right now. I think. You’ve been really weird these last couple months and also kind of mean? But I think I know why now, because you totally thought I liked Allura, right? But she was just helping, I mean, she’s the one who suggested I apply to work with you in the first place. And, like, I’m just realizing how bad that makes me look. Oh my God. Keith, I’m so--I’m so sorry...I’m...I’m kind of freaking out here. Can you just..say something? Anything?” Lance took another breath. “Blink once for “go away Lance” and I swear I will.”

Because Keith was staring. Drinking in Lance’s mind-blowingly handsome face. Which wasn’t even that conventionally handsome. It was handsome and cute and attractive because Keith was so obsessed with everything else about Lance, and that made his face cute too. He blinked, because his eyes were getting dry.

“Oh.” Lance’s face fell. “Okay then.”

Wait. What?

Oh. Oh! The blinking! Shit!

Lance was walking away. When had that happened? Why was Keith just standing here? He yelled at his body to freaking _move_.

“Lance!” Keith jogged two steps and reached out and pulled Lance around like he had just done for Keith a few minutes before. Lance let himself be spun around, his face a painting of surprise and joy, and before he could open his big mouth, Keith surged forward and kissed him.

It was a sloppy kiss; Keith hadn’t had much practice. But it didn’t matter, because he was kissing Lance, and Lance was kissing him back, and his hands were cupping Lance’s jaw and running through the hair on the back of his head, and Lance’s hands were holding Keith’s jaw, and they were kissing, they were _kissing_ \--

“Wow.” Lance pulled away, his eyes dazzled. “Hi.”

Keith couldn’t keep himself from grinning. He felt like he might float off the pier. “Hey.”

“So I take it that you...like me back?”

Keith grinned at this dumb boy whose face was flushed so red and it was adorable. “You might say that.”

And you don’t care that we’re...kind of...in public?”

“No,” Keith said, right before kissing Lance again. “I don’t fucking care at all.”

And he didn’t.

This time, when they kissed, it was long and slow Keith’s mouth opened a little, and then Lance’s did, and Lance’s mouth tasted so...Lance-y that it sent shivers of joy running down Keith’s neck. Everywhere Lance touched him was electric. Alive.

A few people whistled. Some laughed. And Keith laughed too, breathy, coming up for air, and then kissed Lance again.

“Keith,” Lance said. He kissed him “Keith, people are laughing.”

“I’m aware.” Keith kissed his chin. And then he hugged Lance, just to make sure he was real.

“Keith,” Lance said, his chin resting on Keith’s head. “I think our friends are cat-calling us.”

“They’re fucking _what?_ ” Keith whipped around, and sure enough, there was the group: Shiro, standing with his arms folded, a little smile on his face. Allura, leaning on him, grinning from ear to ear. Pidge riding piggy-back on Hunk, both of them the culprits of the wolf-whistling.

“Oh my God,” Keith said. It was a strange feeling, to have perfect happiness collide with numbing surprise and dread. Now they were going to be all over him. Everything was going to change.

But hadn’t everything already changed? The moment he kissed Lance?

“Keith! Lance!” Allura walked up to them, hands drumming on her cheeks. “I came to check on you and ran into everybody else on the way here and…” She turned her spotlight-grin at Lance and gave him a thumbs up, her shoulders scrunched with her smile. “You did it!”

“Everybody else” was walking over to them too. Keith mentally prepared himself for the barrage of questions and attention. He wished it was a few seconds ago, the part with him and Lance kissing. Alone.

“Hey guys.” Shiro raised an eyebrow. “Congrats.”

Pidge reached down from her vantage point and tore a chunk out of Hunk’s cotton candy and stuffed it into her mouth. “It’s about time. We’ve been been waiting for practically forever, and Allura told us we couldn’t bother either of you until you did it by yourself.”

“What?” Something shifted in Keith’s stomach. He squinted up at Pidge, who was digging around in her ear for treasure and not looking at him.  

“Yeah,” Hunk shifted Pidge around on his shoulders. “Because let me just tell you, it’s been a long, long, long, _slow_ burn with you two. And it’s exhausting pretending like we don’t know you two like each other. I was about to lose my mind.”

“Lose your…” Keith rounded on Lance. “Did you tell everyone else, too?”

“What? No! I’m just as in the dark here as you are!” They both shot looks at Allura. She held up her hands in defense.

“It wasn’t my fault!”

“Guys,” Shiro said gently, and put a hand on each of their shoulders. “You were never that subtle. Sorry if you thought you were.”

Keith tried to process this. Everybody had known...everything? All the time? And not just known, but assumed he had known they knew? At least sort of? But that meant--

“So,” he asked, in a small voice, “you guys have known this whole time...that I’m...gay?”

“Wait, was it supposed to be a secret? I thought the only secret was that you two liked each other.” Pidge adjusted her glasses. “Can we get in the line for the Tilt-A-Whirl now? It’s getting kind of long.”

Hunk groaned. “Oh, oh no, if I have to do that again I’m going to blow some serious chunks.”

They had known. For months. Possibly longer. And nobody had asked him anything. Nobody had batted an eye. Or tried to paint his nails in rainbow colors. Or gossiped about boys with him. Or tried to drag him to a pride parade to show how supportive they were. Which was fine, all of that stuff was fine, but it wasn’t...Keith.

“Sure,” Shiro said, turning away. He looked back at Lance and Keith. “You guys coming?”

This wasn’t what Keith had imagined. Or expected at all. Everybody had seen him kissing Lance, they had were happy for him, and now they were just moving on? Because they had thought he was out _before?_

Oh man. He must have been _way_ less subtle than he thought. Some other time, that might have stung a little. But now, it just felt...good? Not exactly, but relieving. Like he didn’t have to worry about it anymore.

“Give us a sec,” Lance said, and Shiro nodded. The group slowly drifted away. Lance turned to Keith. “You okay?”

“Hm? Yeah. Just...thinking.”

“Nothing’s going to change, you know.” Keith looked up sharply at Lance. He was staring after their friends, a faint smile on his face. “Except us. Well, what we...call ourselves. If you, uh, like, want it to.”

Lance’s hand was sneaking its way into Keith’s. Electricity coursed up Keith’s arms. He sucked in air. _One, two three, four, five…_

“Are you asking me to be your boyfriend?” Keith said, voice barely above a whisper.

“Do you-do you want to be my boyfriend?”

Keith took Lance’s hand. Firmly, so there was no question that they were holding hands. He faced the rest of the pier. They were going to get in so much trouble for abandoning the theater, but it was fine. They wouldn’t get fired because nobody else would take the job.

“Yes. I do.”

This time, it was Lance who kissed Keith. Keith was kissing his boyfriend. Wow. He tried the word out in his head. He was running his hand over his boyfriend’s back. _Boyfriend_. Lance was his boyfriend.

He could live with this.

_When he woke up the next morning, Keith was so hopelessly entangled in Lance’s body, Lance snoring away. Everything was peach-colored sunlight through window blinds and crumpled blankets and touching skin. Lance’s face was so close to Keith’s, their limbs intertwined._

_There was school in an hour. Keith had to get up if he was going to catch the city bus in time. But this moment felt so so fragile. Like if he moved to fast, it would shatter. Keith wanted to stay there forever, with the smell of Lance all over his sheets and his clothes and the weight of Lance’s arm over his body. He wanted this. He wanted this more than anything. And already it seemed a daydream._

_With a sigh, Keith closed his eyes and snuggled closer to Lance. One more minute. He could live with this._

_He wanted to live with this._

Everything about this night was making Keith happy. Maybe it was the shimmering pier lights that reflected off the ferris wheel like a slowly turning solar system. Maybe it was the ocean, which washed against the pier, an old friend, reliable and true. Maybe was the tantalizing smell of cotton candy and popcorn and the freewheeling joy of the seagulls overhead.

Or maybe it was just Lance.

“Keith, Keith, check this out!” Lance held up his his phone, which was open to Snapchat. He had a filter on that put little floating hearts around their heads. “Pretty snazzy, eh? Huh? Took me a while, but I finally got some good filters. Thought we could put ourselves on my Story to commemorate our first date night.”

Definitely Lance.


	2. Infinite Summer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith had wished many times for an infinite summer.
> 
> The summer itself was unremarkable: kind of hot, still dry in California drought, full of hipsters walking on the pier where Keith worked in a little theater’s box office. No, it was who he spent the summer with that made him wish for an eternity.

Keith had wished many times for an infinite summer. 

The summer itself was unremarkable: kind of hot, still dry in California drought, full of hipsters walking on the pier where Keith worked in a little theater’s box office. No, it was who he spent the summer  _ with  _ that made him wish for an eternity.

Normally Keith just passed summertime by in a haze of unfocused leisure. But this year he wasn’t alone. This time, he spent the days and weeks and months falling absolutely head over heels for a boy he had been crushing on for ages, and he was falling because that boy liked him  _ back _ , and they had both acknowledged it and holy  _ shit anyway _ they were dating. Which had seemed impossible a couple of months ago when Keith had been hopelessly pining for Lance and thinking the other boy had a thing for Allura, of all people. 

But now he and Lance were dating. Lance was Keith’s  _ boyfriend _ . He still wasn’t used to it. Every time Keith thought of the b-word, an electric thrill ran down his neck. They were boyfriends. They were allowed to do things like steal kisses at work in the pier theater and hold hands and watch movies at night with Lance’s lanky-ass body spread out on the couch and Keith curled up with his head on Lance’s stomach. Or go out on actual, real live dates where Lance would buy Keith dinner and Keith would buy Lance ice cream and the mushiness of it was so awfully cliche that it filled Keith’s heart to bursting with joy. The Fourth of July was spent with the group on the beach, and Lance had held Keith’s hand the entire time, squeezing every time a firework went off to calm Keith’s anxiety. Or! Or! When they would turn the most mundane of events into dates, like going to get the oil changed or picking up deodorant at Walgreens. Everything with Lance was an adventure and a thousand million times better than Keith had ever pictured in his head, because this stuff was actually happening. 

And Lance was patient with him, too. With Keith’s awkwardness and insecurity that could come off as cold, his inability to see things in other people that apparently came naturally to everyone else. Sometimes cues would slip right past Keith and he would leave Lance hanging, or say something not super appropriate for the situation, or forget to make eye contact during a conversation or stumble over his words, and Lance was there to pick him back up. Always. Lance was annoying, and took his jokes far past the point of being funny, and never shut up, and was a huge flirt, and a dork, and also smiled a lot, and had great facial features (especially his jaw and ears and nose and lips and eyes and hair and teeth) and was kind and quiet in unexpected ways, and so real that it hurt. It hurt Keith to realize just how much he liked this boy who drove him so insane. 

So, yeah. Keith had wished many times for an infinite summer. 

But if he was being totally honest, he wished it for a selfish reason. 

Because he didn’t want all of this to come to an end. 

He didn’t want to lose Lance.

The thought loomed over him like a rain cloud, and as the summer drew to an end, Keith’s mood darkened. He always had a count of the days until school began in his head, but this year the numbers seemed even worse than usual. He and Lance went to the same high school; that wasn’t the problem. The days slipped away faster. Like grains of sand down an hourglass. Twenty days until school began and he lost Lance. Fifteen. Ten. Five. Three. One. 

On the morning of his first day of senior year, Keith felt sick from grief. 

 

_ The traveler walked, because his horse was long dead. He carried only what armor he needed; a breastplate was too heavy to walk miles with, but a gorget was worth the weight. It had been so long since he had made the journey that he had nearly forgotten how. And he had never come from this direction before.   _

_ Barren wasteland spread out in endless miles before the warrior. He had come from a sunlit world, one of beaches kissing sand and kisses being bestowed upon on his neck. But those lands were falling behind, giving way to familiar cracked mud flats and scrubbish weeds that clawed at his feet. Overhead and in the distance great tall thunderheads roiled, angry and seething.  _

_ The traveler pressed onwards.  _

 

Shiro was pounding at his door (he had taken a gap semester before college for an internship at some space agency), but Keith just rolled over in his blankets and drew his knees up to his chest. He didn’t want to open his eye to this ugly world. 

The one where he was no longer Lance’s boyfriend. 

“Keith, you’re going to be late for school.” Shiro was quiet for a moment on the other side of the door. “But I know you don’t care, so...you’re going to be late for Lance picking you up.”

Keith moaned and burrowed deeper into his comforter. What was this car ride with Lance even going to be  _ like? _ They hadn’t talked about this at all, either because Keith was too afraid to bring it up, or because Keith assumed that Lance just assumed their new roles come school. And Keith really hadn’t wanted to talk about it, anyway. Nobody would want to put themselves through that kind of hurt to clarify something that didn’t need to be said. 

On his bedside table, Keith’s phone lit up. He groggily pawed at it and flicked open the lock screen: it was a text from Lance. 

_ morning sweetheart! b there in 5 _

He slapped the phone back onto the table, his stomach doing a weird impression of a tumbling acrobat. On one of their first dates, Lance had called Keith “sweetheart” and Keith had nearly choked on his pizza. He promptly ordered Lance never to call him a pet name again, but of course in Lance’s head that had translated as “always call Keith ‘sweetheart’ to piss him off”. Over time, it had grown to be an inside joke, and Keith had found he kind of liked it. Not that he would admit as much to Lance.

Three minutes later found Keith mostly dressed, teeth hastily brushed and hair brushed not at all, a breakfast bar shoved in his pocket that he would probably forget to eat. He had put off school shopping over the summer until the opportunity had died completely, so Keith crammed some of his lesser-used notebooks from last spring into his backpack. He hated taking notes anyway; much better just to listen and study on Quizlet later. 

Shiro caught him before he went out the door. 

“You look terrible,” he said with a smile. 

“Thanks. Right back at you, bro.”

“Do I?” Shiro frowned, suddenly nervous, and picked at an invisible wrinkle in his space agency uniform. It even had a fancy little patch that read “Altea Tech”.

“No, you idiot. You look fine.” 

“Great. Alright. Well, have a good last first day, Mr. Senior.”

Keith nodded and headed out before he remembered that Lance was parked on the curb outside the apartment complex. Shit. But now it was too late. Lance had already seen him; he couldn’t just walk down the sidewalk and pretend not have noticed his boyfriend. 

Unlike normal, Keith felt nauseous at the mental usage of the b-word. Probably he would never use it with Lance again after this car ride. Or maybe just in dark rooms at parties and basements where nobody would see them. Did Keith really want that? Did he want Lance that bad to stoop that low? The sickening answer was “yes”. Keith would do anything for this boy, including kissing him in the dark when they were drowned in alcohol and anonymity. 

 

_ The pit came upon the traveler without warning. He was so focused on the horizon that he nearly fell into it before realizing that there simply was no more land. The mud flats simply ended, as did the world. The pit seemed to suck at him with a gentle tug, like a breeze blowing in reverse or a great beast inhaling. _

_ He had returned.  _

_ With a shrug of his shoulders, one of the traveler’s many packs fell to the ground, and he dug from within it a lantern. A flint and steel was all it took to coax a flame into life. It took to the oiled wick hungrily as he shut the little paper door. Within moments, the lantern was rising from the ground. The traveler guided it into the air with trembling hands. He had thought that, with his departure to the summer world, perhaps he wouldn’t need the lantern anymore. But he could never bring himself to throw it away, and the fact that he had been wise in that decision saddened him. _

_ Up, up the lantern went, sailing over the desolation, out into the nothingness over the pit.  _

_ The trembling flame was soon no more than a distant star in the darkness. The traveler waited.  _

_ It didn’t take long.  _

_ Deep, deep in the pit, a shape stirred. _

_ Keith put a hand on the sword hanging on his hip. _

 

Lance flashed him a smile as Keith climbed inside the minivan. It was an old, bulbous-ended creature, spray-painted a hideous shade of purple. In a previous life it had belonged to a soccer mom, and it still seemed to be growing out of that phase: bumper stickers were plastered all over, reading things like “Baby on Board” and “Coexist”. There was even an actual, honest-to-God “Soccer Mom” sticker in the corner of the back window, with a little soccer ball replacing the two o’s. 

Keith tried to smile back at Lance and control the spiraling aroura of warmth Lance’s smile brought at the same time. 

“Hey dude! Ready to be a kick-ass senior? I wonder if we can, like, make the freshmen carry around our backpacks and stuff?”

“Maybe,” Keith muttered, making a big show of adjusting his backpack between his legs. He didn’t want to look at Lance and be reminded of what he was losing. But he had to look up eventually, and before he could do anything Lance was leaning in and pecking him on the lips. 

A pit of longing opened up in Keith’s chest. He was already mourning this. Could you miss someone that hadn’t left yet? 

And what was Lance doing, kissing him? Why was he dragging this out? 

 

_ The world trembled as the shape took on mass and form. Impossibly, it was lit by a dull red glow from the tiny lantern; Keith could make out a back covered with spines, an impression of claws and sharp surfaces made for ripping.  _

_ The creature rose. And rose, and rose. Its body was a great oily mass of shifting shadow, solid one moment and insubstantial the next. It was a giant nightmare beast hundreds of feet tall, a bad dream walking. Two slits of white fire opened for eyes in its head, which reared up to look directly at Keith.  _

_ The sucking of the pit seemed to grow in strength. Keith’s tattered red cloak blew about his body. With great care, he drew the sword from its sheath at his hip with his right hand, and the shield from his back with his left. He sank back into a fighting stance. In his chest, his heart hammered with fear. It didn’t seem to matter that he had done this many times. If anything, the fear was worse.  _

_ The creature lunged without sound or warning. _

 

Keith pulled back from the quick kiss and tried to smile at his boyfr--at Lance, then opted to lean his head on the window as Lance began the drive to school. Lance chatted away about everything and nothing, about the perks of being a senior and the new guys on the soccer team and some new action movie that was coming out this week. Keith nodded and said “yeah” in the right places (something he had been working on), unable to bring himself to make full conversation. One part of him wanted desperately to catch every word. The other was already pushing Lance away. 

 

_ Keith slashed and cut at the beast, but wherever his sword was, the shadow-thing was not. It smashed a great clawed hand into the mud. He only just had time to roll and came up cutting, but his sword bit air. A shred of black smashed into his side and he flew. Pain flared in his ribs. He spit blood. Got back up.  _

_ “I can do this,” he told it as he tore at the darkness. “I can live with you.”  _

_ The creature laughed.  _

 

Before long, their high school appeared out of the forest of nice, two-story houses. Lance pulled into the parking lot, which was filled with throngs of people headed towards the main doors. The school itself was nothing special, just a red brick toad squatting on several acres of fake green football fields. But seeing it felt like someone was pushing Keith up to the edge of the hole in his chest. 

Lance got out, but Keith stayed in his seat for a second, eyes closed. Suddenly, a school year seemed like an eternity. He didn’t know if he had the strength to go back to this, to what it had been before, after seeing what life could be.

But it didn’t matter, because he had no choice. 

“Keith?” Lance was knocking on his window. “You coming or what?”

“Yeah.” 

The parking lot was even more insane than it had looked from the car; kids were gathered in groups by cars or jaywalking and getting beeped at or working on vape pens where they thought teachers wouldn’t see. And all the while, the same fear ran in circles in Keith’s head. He was fighting the same losing battle. 

Because there was no more time left. There was no more one month, no more couple weeks. They were _ here, _ he was here, and this is where it had to end. 

 

_ Keith found himself face-down in the mud. Every part of his body screamed in agony.  _

_ “Get. Up,” he told himself.  _

_ But he was bleeding, and he was tired.  _

_ He had fought this beast too many times, and he was tired.  _

 

A hand was sliding into Keith’s. He jerked away and looked up (always up with Lance) in surprise. And Lance must have felt his hesitation, because his eyebrows knitted together in concern. His mouth opened to form a question. 

What was Lance  _ doing _ ? Why wouldn’t he just let Keith walk on ahead like Lance wanted? 

And then he was walking, quickly, angrily, taking long strides away from the minivan. But Lance’s goddamn legs were so much taller than his, and he caught up to Keith easily. 

“Keith? What’s going on?”  
“Nothing.” _Just leave me alone._ Keith had thought he could do this, and maybe he could have, but not with Lance twisting a knife into the wound like this. 

“Dude, I don’t think it’s nothing.”

“I’m fine.” 

Keith felt Lance’s hand try to slip into his again, and that was what broke something inside of him. 

He rounded on Lance. 

“What the  _ hell? _ What is wrong with you? Why don’t you just leave me alone already?”

Why couldn’t he make this easy? Why wasn’t Lance following this unspoken agreement Keith had thought was a part of their contract? He had known it from the beginning, and although he had detested it, had avoided that clause of their relationship like it was poison, he had accepted it. 

Angry tears pricked at Keith’s eyes. 

Lance’s face twisted with hurt. His shoes scuffed on the pavement as he took the smallest step back. “What are you talking about?”

“You know what I’m talking about!” 

Keith was staring at the ground. If he had to look at Lance, he would never get through this. He aimed all the hurt in his soul at the pavement like a focused laser beam. 

 

_ Black tentacles wrapped around Keith’s body, dragging him closer to the pit. The monster had won.  _

_ A breath of summer washed across his face. A hideous scream rose from the pit.  _

_ “No!’ Keith cried. “Let me do this! It has to be like this!”  _

 

“I--”

“Quit playing dumb, Lance! I know what has to happen now, okay? I’m not stupid.” Keith sniffed and hated himself for it. If Lance wanted him to say it, fine. He would. He would spell it out, even if he cut himself on the words in the process.

“You don’t have t-...to be around me anymore. I give you permission to never have to be around me here, or anywhere, okay? You don’t have to be seen with me. You don’t have to worry about people making fun of you for being gay or having a boyfriend, okay? I would...I would never do that to you.” 

And there it was. The evil, rotten core of it. 

Keith found it was hard to stand. He put a hand on the nearest car to steady himself. The pavement gazed back unflinching. 

“So...so we can walk inside together and whatever, but I don’t expect anything. You don’t have to worry about that. I get it. You’re the cool, funny guy. You have a reputation with people. And being seen with me would ruin that. Okay? So just...don’t worry about me. I won’t get in your way.”

Silence. It was horrible. 

But at the same time, Keith felt a perverse relief. Now the unspoken contract had become tangible. The rules were clearly defined and where Keith could see them. 

“Keith.” 

_ Don’t look at him. _ Keith refused. 

“You are...the most idiotic...stupid... _ selfless _ boy I have ever met ever. But I have to stress the ‘idiotic’ over the ‘selfless’ here.”

 

_ A shower of lightning-bright blaster bolts slammed into the creature’s hold on Keith, and it shrieked in pain. Keith was half-conscious. Knocked out from the pain of his acceptance.  _

_ There was more gunfire. Keith was dimly aware of it, as if through a shroud of fog. Someone was tearing at the hands and claws and tentacles of the beast. Coming towards him.  _

_ And then light broke through the sunless world, and a face appeared.  _

_ “I have you,” Lance said. He reached in and grabbed Keith’s wrist tight. “I have you.” _

 

With trembling slowness, Keith looked at Lance. 

“What?” 

Lance stepped into Keith and gently, so, so gently took his hands. Keith let him. When they had started dating, Lance had always asked permission to hold his hand. Eventually it got annoying and in the way of valuable hand-holding time, so Keith had told him he didn’t need to ask.

There were people walking everywhere around them. People in their class. They were holding hands out in front of them. 

Keith didn’t know why this was so different. They had made out on the pier in full public a while ago. But this was high school. Their high school. A whole different beast. It was what made him think--

“So let me get this straight,” Lance said, quiet, rubbing his thumbs over the back of Keith’s hands. “You thought that at school I wouldn’t want to be your boyfriend because it was embarrassing?”

“Well--”

“That I would be embarrassed of you? Or because we’re both guys?”

“I mean--”

“Because oh my God Keith, neither is a good answer. Neither of those. At all.” Lance smelled so good. And he was warm, and Keith wanted nothing more than to collapse into his chest at this moment and hold him and never let go. 

“And just to clarify, in case I hadn’t made this extravagantly clear to you in the past,” Lance went on, “I am crazy about you, Keith Kogane. I am so madly crazy about you, it’s insane. Did you know that I think about you probably all day? It’s actually getting a little annoying. I can’t make myself a smoothie without wishing you were there share it with. But there is no freaking way I am going to let your gigantic head get in the way of me making out with you in front of every single person I know just to show them how proud I am to have the most incredibly hot, awesome-est boyfriend ever.” 

Keith hardly knew what to think. When Lance said it, it made it seem stupid and trivial. It was hard to tell sometimes, in Keith’s head, what was real. He had a habit of obsessing over things and turning them over and over to make them grow. 

“So…you don’t want to break up?” 

“Holy shit, you were going to break up with me today? Are you serious?”

Keith frowned. “Only because I thought that’s what you wanted!”

And then Lance was laughing, his lopsided smile lighting up his face. “Dude, wow. Wow. I can’t believe you. I really just can’t.”

Keith punched him in the shoulder. Kind of softly. “Don’t make fun of me. I was…” What? He had been trying to protect Lance? To put him over himself? Maybe. 

“But what if I was--”

“Was what?”

“It’s stupid.”

“No it’s not.”

Keith sucked in a breath. “What if I was scared? And trying to find an excuse to...to run away? God, yeah, it sounds stupid.”

But it was the truth. Keith had gotten used to being on his own over the course of his life. He was a solitary guy. And he accepted that, and drew strength from it. He didn’t know how to handle people, and so he just steered clear from them. 

And then this thing with Lance...it had felt like running down a flight of stairs with his feet slowly becoming unable to catch up to his speed. Exhilarating, but terrifying. Every day he was dating Lance, Keith had felt his anxiety multiplying. Because every day built up their relationship, and that meant that when--there was no if--Keith screwed it up, he had more to lose. And he wasn’t just going to hurt himself, either. Being involved with other people meant he was responsible for hurting them, too. That scared him.

So he had tried to run back to being alone.

 

_ Finally, Keith began to struggle against the clutches of the beast instead of letting Lance do all the pulling. And he emerged, gasping, bruised and battered, into the sunlight.  _

_ And Lance had brought summer with him.  _

_ The once barren wasteland had transformed into a prairie of waving grasses and blue skies. Wildflowers grew like miniature fireworks, and the air smelled of the ocean. Where before there had been only desolation and isolation, now there was life.  _

_ But the pit was still there. And the beast was still alive. _

 

Keith struggled to tell Lance what he had found, and it was awkward and not a great speech, but he got the message across, mostly. 

“If it’s okay with you,” Lance said, “I’m not going to let you.”

“Let me what?”

“Be alone. I mean, I’m not going to like, follow you everywhere and take showers with you--” Keith noticed Lance’s face begin to burn. “But, I mean, I wouldn’t not take a shower with you. Eventually. Because who wouldn’t? Oh my God, that’s not--”

“Lance.”

“Sorry.” He took a breath. “What I mean is...you don’t have to go back to that place, man. Not if you don’t want to. I know it’s scary and tough and believe me I worry all the time about messing up, but I think we have to, because isn’t that kind of the point of it all? I mean--I just...I want to do all of this crazy stuff. With you. If that’s alright.” 

Keith was silent for a moment. He looked at the fear inside himself. The option was there, if he wanted it, to draw inwards and share his feelings only with himself forever. Nobody would get hurt that way. 

But maybe Lance was worth the damage. 

And goddamn anyway, Keith really wanted to hug Lance right now. 

And he realized,  _ oh, yeah _ , he was allowed to do that. 

So he did. 

It felt so good to wrap his arms around Lance’s chest and just squeeze as hard as he could. Physical contact could be weird sometimes with Keith--like one day his body could be a magnet with a messed up charge and propel others away from him, and the next day he could be fine--but right now his charges were in line. He hugged and hugged Lance and then hugged him some more and smelled his deodorant and body wash and just the unique, normal, natural smell that everyone has. 

“I choose this,” he told Lance’s neck. “And I’m sorry I assumed stuff about what you wanted. That wasn’t cool.”

 

_ As one, he and Lance rose and stood tall to face the monster. Keith drew his sword and Lance raised the barrel of his rifle. All the power of summer stood at their backs. But even better, Keith stood next to Lance.  _

 

“So we’re going in there as boyfriends, then?” Lance pressed his pointy chin into the top of Keith’s head. 

“Yep.”

“Cool, so I can do this?”

“Do what?”

The words had no more than left Keith’s mouth before Lance was raising his hands to cup his face and shouting to the rest of the parking lot. 

“HEY EVERYONE! GUESS WHAT? KEITH KOGANE IS MY FREAKING BOYFRIEND!”

Oh, holy shit. 

Lance’s voice was one of the ones that carried across spaces well, as many a teacher knew, so plenty of people in the parking lot heard. Keith pulled away from their hug to look at all their heads turning towards them. The conversations all around them dimmed somewhat. Someone sniggered. But Keith also spotted more than a few looks of confused, hopeful happiness on some faces, the look people got when they saw someone else being happy. 

“Prove it, McClain!” Someone shouted. 

“OKAY!” Lance turned back to Keith with mock seriousness. “Keith, I should inform you that I’m about to kiss you to prove a point I’m making, and I don’t want you to feel as though I am exploiting you, because I also would like to kiss you for the sheer pleasure I get from kissing my boyfriend.”

“Right,” Keith said dumbly. It was all he could manage. 

Because then Lance was kissing him, and not just a little peck like earlier, but honest-to-God-kissing. His hands were cupping the back of Keith’s head and his jaw and Keith had time to think  _ oh, Christ, _ before his thoughts were swept away by the feel and taste and raw lightning of Lance. 

Keith looped his arms around Lance’s neck and kissed him back. Oh holy cow they were using tongue. In the parking lot. And they had both gotten a lot better at kissing, too; Lance’s lips were just the right amount of soft and hard pressing against Keith’s, his toungue not invading but just there enough to shoot bolts of electricity where it went.

And still, after all this time, Keith’s thoughts turned into a mush of  _ holyshitI’mkissingLanceholyshitholyshitholyshit.  _ It was a lightning storm of endorphins and euphoria, a blazing forest of joy, and Keith never wanted it to end.  

When they finally broke apart, they were greeted with a chorus of wolf-whistles and clapping and laughter, and Lance threw up both his hands in the air like he had just made a touchdown. Keith felt somewhat dizzy and foggy in the head. 

People began to move back towards the doors. Some grinned at them as they walked past or told them congratulations, and it was only then that Keith realized he had effectively just come out to the general public of his life, the rest of their group excluded. But they were already in on it, so they didn’t count. 

His brain really wasn’t working right, but one thought came through loud and clear, and it was that he should kiss Lance again, because it felt nice, and he really, really liked Lance. Who was he to disregard a great idea? They were going to have to be a little late to class. 

 

_ With a great cry, the beast sank back into the pit, its hide torn with cuts and holes through which brilliant white light shone through. Keith’s body was one big bruise, and his armor was ruined, and Lance was in possibly worse shape.  _

_ “You’re hurt,” Keith said, unable to keep the worry from creeping into his voice. “Because of me.” _

_ “I would do a lot worse for you.” _

_ “It’s going to come back.” _

_ Lance put an arm around his waist. “Maybe. But it’ll have to deal with both of us.”  _

_ And so they picked up their weapons and turned around and began their journey back to the land of true summer. For a long time, Keith had lived alone on the edge of that pit and battled that creature. When Lance had come and shown him the way to the summer land, he had known he was going to come back here eventually.  _

_ And maybe he still would. Perhaps the creature would gain power again one day and Keith would do battle. But it would never be what it was. A decision had been made.  _

_ And now an infinite summer awaited.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I wasn't planning on this being a multi-chapter thing, but here we are! Thanks for reading :) 
> 
> Come say hi on my [tumblr](http://www.wuhkie.tumblr.com)!

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked it! This is my first Klance fic, but rest assured there will be more in the future. Come find me on tumblr @wuhkie for other fic stuff!


End file.
